Analysis of A Meeting With Despair

AS evening shaped I found me on a moor
        Which sight could scarce sustain:
     The black lean land, of featureless contour,
        Was like a tract in pain.

"This scene, like my own life," I said, "is one
        Where many glooms abide;
     Toned by its fortune to a deadly dun--
        Lightless on every side.

I glanced aloft and halted, pleasure-caught
        To see the contrast there:
     The ray-lit clouds gleamed glory; and I thought,
        "There's solace everywhere!"

Then bitter self-reproaches as I stood
        I dealt me silently
     As one perverse--misrepresenting Good
        In graceless mutiny.

Against the horizon's dim-descernèd wheel
        A form rose, strange of mould:
     That he was hideous, hopeless, I could feel
        Rather than could behold.

"'Tis a dead spot, where even the light lies spent
        To darkness!" croaked the Thing.
     "Not if you look aloft!" said I, intent
        On my new reasoning.

"Yea--but await awhile!" he cried. "Ho-ho!--
        Look now aloft and see!"
     I looked. There, too, sat night: Heaven's radiant show
        Had gone. Then chuckled he.